


Legacy

by Roxrezi (sovereignProviso), sovereignProviso



Category: Homestuck, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, I mean it is the hunger games, Karezi, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, Theres gonna be some violence and death, Well ok an AU crossover thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-03-16 00:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13624650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sovereignProviso/pseuds/Roxrezi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sovereignProviso/pseuds/sovereignProviso
Summary: “I VOLUNTEER!” She yelled, desperately pushing her way out into the no man’s land that was the pathway towards the stage. Everyone around her pushed and shoved to be the first one out, but the peacekeepers lining the path seemed to hold everyone back - only relenting their barrier once Terezi approached. In the heat of the moment she thought nothing of it: one moment she was drowning in the sea of clamoring voices; and the next, she was alone, isolated in the island between the potential tributes and the onlookers. “I volunteer as the tribute.”A Homestuck Hunger Games AU (just because I can't stop myself from writing these kinds of things).





	1. Prologue

_ “Centuries ago, a war raged across the world. Countries against countries; violence against violence. The fire destroyed everything until there was nothing left to burn. _

 

_ Then, came the cleanse. Another century of surviving as the world re-formed around the people left. All throughout this, the Empress stayed strong. She lead our people through the fighting, through the war-scorched earth, and to Alterna.  _

 

_ The Empress saved us, salvaged what she could of the old-world and gave it to us anew. A utopia where no one would fight, or rage war ever again. A paradise where we could live together in peace, where everyone did their part for the community.  _

 

_ For many years, the people were good to our saviour, our Empress. But soon there grew an unrest. War broke out once again inside an unruly district, but was snubbed out by our noble Empress’ might. As punishment for their crimes, our leader demanded that we give sacrifice every year. Two children, picked out from a lottery as a tribute for the games, to both remind us not to follow in the path of the unruly district; and to show our devotion to her just, and fair laws.  _

 

_ So every year, each district holds their reaping. To sacrifice two of our own for the good of Alterna. For the good of the world.  _

 

_ Even though the first Empress is gone, her legacy still remains to this day. Submit yourselves up to Alterna; Consummate its noble laws; Obey the divine ruling.” _


	2. District Two's Reaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> District 2 holds its 413th reaping.

The whole of the district had gathered together for the event. It was an unusual sight to behold, all those people bustling about in such a tight space. Though it wasn’t as if anyone had a choice in the matter at all. If you were physically well enough, it was the law for you to attend the reaping - regardless if you were of age to be entered into the lottery or not. As Terezi walked up to the registry queue, she thought about how odd it was that so much importance was put onto watching this particular event.

She understood why the people her age needed to go, it wouldn’t be the games without any participants, but it always struck her as odd. Giving her head a mental shake, she cleared any thoughts away from her mind, other than what she needed to do. This would be her last year, her last chance at whatever kind of fame and glory came along with winning these games.

Registration took all of two seconds. One to prick her finger and draw out some blood, and another to scan the DNA and get a match. Once that was over, she took her place amongst the other 18 year olds and waited for the ceremony to start. Since they were the second district, their event was timed to start just after the first district’s tributes had been chosen, which meant that she didn’t have to wait too long at all.

In the distance, Terezi spied her mother sat formidably on the side of the stage in front of her, with some of the other past victors. The intimidating woman clearly wanted to show how much power she had, as not only was she sitting there with what looked like to be some sort of smug grin plastered on her face, but she’d taken the effort to go all out and wear the formal uniform designated for the head peacekeeper, too.

Her sister was probably in the middle of the crowd with the rest of her friends who were too old to be entered into the lottery. Unlike her mother and herself, Latula had no interest whatsoever in competing in the games. In fact, she had a disregard for the authority of The Empress in general. Secretly, Terezi couldn't blame her, there was definitely something wrong in sending kids to kill each other for fun.

But this wasn't the time to be thinking about the morals of it all. She'd been training since she could walk for the potential of being a volunteer for the games. Terezi was never one to brag, but she had always been pretty much top of every class in combat training, though she would only really prefer to use a blade. Anything else could be used if there was no other way of defending herself.

All throughout her life, and especially when her sister had made no effort to train or get into the games, her mother had pinned all her hopes and expectations on to her shoulders. If she didn't get into the games today, then she'd probably end up getting disowned. Maybe even worse, who the fuck knew. That was why she had to be ready, she couldn't let herself be distracted by any other train of thought.

But over in District 2, they loved The Capitol and The Empress. It was kind of pathetic really, if you looked at it. Idolising the people that were living off of your poverty. As a natural byproduct of it all, the whole district seemed to live for the annual games. Aside from the endless, brutal training each child was forced to go through; the people treated the games like a festival. Any victors that arrived back home were welcomed and treated like royalty. Which, in her mother’s case only served to inflate her gigantic ego.

A sharp, static-y ring blasted across the square as the District’s escort stepped up to the mic. The ear-splitting noise yanked Terezi from her train of thought so harshly, that she wondered if she’d gotten mental whiplash from it all.

“Greetings, one and all!” The escort beamed as she spoke, a brilliant vision all in only the brightest shades of pink. “It is my proud honour to welcome you, the wonderful people of District 2, to the reaping of the 413th annual Hunger Games!”

The moment the words left her lips, the crowd surrounding Terezi roared in excitement. She’d noticed that every year, the section containing the 18 year olds was the loudest, and now that she was among them, their shouts were almost deafening. Her own voice raised and hollered with them, aiming to be the loudest so that somehow, she would be fated to be one of the tributes this year.

Upon the stage, the escort beamed down at the cheering crowd, her pink lips curled up into a grin that seemed to resemble a rather pleased cat. Roxanne Lalonde had been their district’s escort for the past ten years or so, having been bumped up from District 9 when their last one was executed for treason. And boy, did she love her job here. Terezi always got the feeling that this woman saw it as a grand promotion; being sent from a poor, losing district to a career one, like 2. The way she flounced around the stage each year made it seem like she thought she had the best job in the whole of Alterna.

There were the usual announcements about the games, and the empress. The same video they played year after year glorifying the games was shown on the multiple screens dotted about the stage, and within the standing areas. Then their escort spoke again; it was time.

“As usual, we shall go with ladies first!” She announced in a coy tone, like she wasn’t just picking some poor sap to go to their doom - or not. Considering the track record of this district, at least. A name was called, and it wasn’t her’s, but before she could even think about it, her voice had risen above the others.

“I VOLUNTEER!” She yelled, desperately pushing her way out into the no man’s land that was the pathway towards the stage. Everyone around her pushed and shoved to be the first one out, but the peacekeepers lining the path seemed to hold everyone back - only relenting their barrier once Terezi approached. In the heat of the moment she thought nothing of it: one moment she was drowning in the sea of clamoring voices; and the next, she was alone, isolated in the island between the potential tributes and the onlookers. “I volunteer as the tribute.”

Roxanne gave a jovial laugh, and welcomed her on to the stage without batting an eyelid. As the nearest two peacekeepers escorted her, Terezi caught a glimpse of her mother’s face. The way she was looking at her was enough to send a cold chill down the younger Pyrope’s spine. But before she could react, she was whisked past, and sent to the front of the stage.

“What’s your name, dear?” Roxanne asked, shoving both the microphone and her pink, manicured claws into her face.

“Terezi,” She replied, her confidence resurging as she flashed her signature shit-eating grin out at her audience, “Terezi Pyrope. And you better bet that I’ll be the one to win this year!”

Behind her, she could feel the approving, yet cold stare of her mother. In front of her, the crowd murmured in mixed reactions, until her sister started cheering for her - and the rest followed suite. In spite of her situation, she felt a wash of relief flood over her as she beamed out over the mass of her cheering District. Though unfortunately, she knew it was out of the frying pan and right into the proverbial fire.

It took an unusual amount of time for the escort to calm the crowd. Maybe it was the fact that she was the daughter of both a previous winner, and the head peacekeeper. Maybe it was the fact that her sister could whoop and holler for days. Or maybe it was because the games had infiltrated and sunk it's seed so deep inside their society that the people of her District had completely forgotten just how barbaric it all was. Needless to say, things were certainly looking good for her making a first impression. Terezi soaked up as much of the collective praise as she could, before Roxanne successfully managed to hush the audience and start to call out for the male tribute. In the end, it didn't matter what name got pulled out of that bowl. Whoever it was would be spared for another year as someone else would volunteer, just as she did.

True to her prediction, a name she didn't know got pulled out from the round glass bowl, and a cacophony of voices called out to replace them. Eventually, someone broke through the barrier of peacekeepers, and stumbled out into the pathway. She couldn't be sure, but from this distance, they seemed vaguely familiar. He'd come from the section of 18 year olds, after all. There was at least a chance that they’d been in the same class together.

The boy walked up to the stage, four peacekeepers in their stark white uniforms surrounding him as they'd done with her. As he came closer, Terezi realised that yes, she had shared classes with the guy. She couldn't remember his name, but she did remember how well he could throw knives and shurikens. Definitely something to keep in mind.

“Sollux Captor.” His voice sounded almost bored as he answered Roxanne’s initial question. Sneaking an inquisitive look out of the corner of her eye, she saw that his face was a deadpan, too. It made her wonder just why he would volunteer if he seemed like he couldn't care less about taking part. At least she had the courtesy to hide her disdain.

There was a light smattering of applause after the formalities were over - her peer clearly not causing as much of a stir as she had a minute ago - before their escort took back her spotlight. Roxanne gave her usual speech closing up the ceremony, before Terezi heard the sharp screech of a chair from behind her, and saw her mother crossing the stage until she stood at the front. Freezing mid-sentence, Roxanne’s big personality seemed to shrivel and cower beneath the other woman’s cold, red-tinted gaze.

Regina ‘Redglare’ Pyrope was a powerful woman, both in her job and in her demeanour. She had won the games for their district when she was only 16, something completely unheard of from any kind of career. From there, she came back and instantly joined up to the ranks of the peacekeepers, her notoriety and skill earning her promotion after promotion until she was practically running the whole joint. She was the kind of success story Alterna loved to hear about: a ruthless young victor, coming back to rule her District with an iron fist of justice.

Terezi didn't see much of her any more. It was only recently that her mother had raised to the rank of head, if recently counted as nearly 8 years ago. She remembered her being kind, but firm. Supportive of what they did, as long as it meant they were training up to follow in her footsteps. The rest, she was indifferent to. As long as it wasn't breaking any rules. Unfortunately, that also meant becoming indifferent to Latula when she surpassed the age for the games, though honestly she knew her mother had become indifferent to her sister long before that.

Taking the microphone from Roxanne’s hands, Regina cleared her throat, and turned to face the audience square-on. Though, and Terezi couldn't be quite sure, it seemed like the angle of her body was facing the cameras more than the people.

“Today, like this day every year, is a very special event.” Her mother’s confident voice boomed out around the amphitheatre. “Two of our own are sacrificed for the sins of the past, in the hope that one of them will return victorious. As many of you will know, I was once in the place of these two young people. A place, at the time, was meant for someone much older than me. I fought relentlessly to be in that place as young as I was, and I fought even harder to get back to my home District until I did. But today is not about me.” Terezi’s heart dropped to her stomach as her mother turned towards her, her arm outstretched to gesture in her direction.

“Today, in District 2, is about a new legacy.” Regina continued. “My daughter Terezi, has fought exactly how I did to be in the very same place that I once stood in. So believe her words from earlier, she _will_ bring our District glory! She _will be_ the winner of this year's games!!”

As the crowd whipped themselves up into a frenzy for the second time that day, Terezi wanted nothing more than to just sink right through the floor. In spite of her wishes, she played along. Beaming out into the crowd, she took her mother's hand and let her raise it into the sky. A victorious pose that she thought too premature.

“I’ll see you in the town hall.” Her mother said, leaning in close and murmuring in her ear. Terezi honestly couldn’t wait until she could get off of that stage. The games this year were definitely getting off to an interesting start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a way to start off the games, hey? Definitely doing it with a bang!
> 
> Also I know canon Redglare is much nicer than my Regina, but I have a plan for her other than serving as a plot device. Wink wink.
> 
> Posting schedule for this is pretty much just going to be when I can, rather than anything concrete. I tend to write my fics in short bursts between my job and the like (which admittedly doesn't give me as much time as I'd like >:[ ). I'll try and at least keep the updates as close together as I can!
> 
> If you like what I do, then why not take a trip to my ko-fi page? ==> https://ko-fi.com/kingspirals
> 
> If you can't donate, then leaving a Kudos or a comment really helps me too!!


	3. District Twelve's Reaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> District 12 holds its 413th Reaping.

The whole of the district had gathered for the event. Well, the ones that were well enough to make it, that is. Karkat hated the sight of it, despised it. All these people packed together like animals to watch two of their children be sent off for the slaughter. His lip curled up into a disdainful scowl as he shuffled closer to the front of the registry queue. He knew the meaning behind the yearly event full well; ‘Behave yourself, otherwise next time we won’t stop at just two.’. The only solace he took from the whole, disgusting procedure was that this was going to be his last year. 

He didn't understand why some of the other districts seemed to treat the games like they were something to be celebrated. They were all getting the same message from the Empress, and yet that message was completely warped depending on what District you ended up in. Though it was no secret among the people that the better Alterna treated your district, the better you thought of the games. Probably why his poor, run down home dreaded the return of them year, after year. 

There were only two registry stations up this year, meaning the queues were going at a snail’s pace. Karkat wondered when they’d whittle their funding down so far that they’d only have one. After nearly 40 minutes standing around, eventually he got to the front of the queue, and held out his hand for the peacekeeper to take his blood. He remembered that he used to hate this part in his first few years. He hated seeing his own blood. Nowadays, he just put on a neutral face and looked away until the peacekeeper told him he could go. 

In the queue next to him, a small boy was getting registered at the same time. A look of abject horror was stuck on his face as his own peacekeeper grabbed his hand and started to take his blood. Karkat remembered being in his place, his first year in the reaping. He couldn’t help but feel empathetic towards him. The kid even had the same olive skin, and dark hair as he did, though his own skin had significantly darkened from his days spent outside, shadowing in the quarries. 

“Hey.” Karkat called over to him, trying to distract the poor kid. The boy looked over - still frightened, but more than a little curious - and got offered one of Karkat’s rare smiles. “It’s alright. You’ll just sit down in your area, and it’ll be over before you know it. Then you can go home.” 

“You can go.” The peacekeeper interrupted, his voice sounding irate. “Don’t hold up the queue.” 

Karkat flashed the kid yet another smile, and was pleased to see that he’d significantly relaxed from moments before. Even as he was jostled into the area with the other 18 year olds, he tried to keep an eye out for the boy, a voice in the back of his mind telling him that it was important. But he’d lost sight of him almost instantly, the heads of nearly identical colours obscuring any individual from his watchful eyes. He couldn’t even spot his mother and father in amongst the crowds, but he knew they were there - along with his older brother and sister. 

Families in this district tended to have a larger number of kids than some of the others. Three was considered a minimum in these parts. Over from the section of 16 year olds, his younger sister caught his eye, and waved. Well, she was a half-sister, really, but she sure felt like a full one. Especially with how they bugged each other growing up.

A sharp, static-y ring blasted across the small square to signal the sudden arrival of District 12’s escort, and brought everyone’s attention to the stage in front of them. They’d gotten a new one a couple of years ago, after the other one finally got bumped up to a higher district (though, Karkat hardly doubted that District 10 was any better off than they were). This new one was still so full of hope, like he wasn’t going to be stuck with this backend district for the majority of his career. He gave it one more year before the man started to crumble, just like the rest of them.

“Greetings, one and all!” Their escort started, his strange accent standing out like a sore thumb. For some reason, despite the garish fashion the people liked to wear in the capital of Alterna, Jake seemed to dress rather normally. The only outlandish thing about his whole appearance seemed to be his bright green hair, and… those god awful short shorts. “It’s my duty, and great honour to welcome you wonderful people of District 12 to the 413th annual reaping!”

Where great shouts may have erupted in other Districts, this announcement was only met with polite applause. The people here didn't care for the showmanship, or the flare. It didn't fool them one bit. But they all had to be here, to honour whatever horrific tradition this was. To save themselves from getting a public beating later on, if nothing else.

The usual speech was made, along with the usual video they played year after year. Sometimes Karkat wondered whether it was one they made when the games were first introduced - it certainly seemed dated enough to be. He barely paid any attention to it, had heard it way too many times to care. Instead, he found his mind wandering, imagining what it would be like next year when he was no longer in the running for it all. Would he listen then? He still doubted it.

His mind didn’t need to bother about picturing, in years to come, the horror of seeing his potential children be called in for the lottery. Unlike most of his peers, he'd already decided never to have any. The truth was that he was too soft hearted, and way too protective over those he loved to even think about consciously putting them in the slightest amount of danger. It pained him to think about, even at such a young age. But it was best. Though, he also severely doubted that anyone would ever put up with his ass for long enough to _want_ to procreate with him. Which was something to note that made the painful truth just a little better.

“...I believe it only gentlemanly to pull out our lucky lady’s name first!” Karkat only caught the last part of the escort’s sentence; he was simultaneously miles away, and also way too close to reality for his liking. 

Every single person in the courtyard fell silent as the man’s hand rustled around in a clear glass bowl crammed full of people’s names, some in there more than just once. He could feel his own heartbeat increase as he hoped, he _prayed_ that his sister wouldn't be picked. It thumped nervously in his ears, and his eyes flicked from the stage to his sister’s section so rapidly that he thought he might go dizzy.

After what seemed like an eternity (he was sure the posh sounding asshole was being slow on purpose), the hand raised out of the bowl with one piece of folded paper delicately caught in between the index and middle finger. The tension in the air was almost palpable. Dramatically, the escort - who’s name Karkat had never bothered to learn - unfolded it and raised the microphone to his lips.

“Aradia Megido.” 

Karkat let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding in, feeling relief flood over him in gigantic waves. His sister was safe. Beside him, he heard a few other relieved sighs from people who'd probably also been worrying about various family members. That was what it was when people got chosen to compete in the games, relieved sighs and pitiful silence. People just glad that it wasn't someone they loved, while watching someone else’s loved one get sent off to their death. The same certainly couldn’t be said for other Districts.

He watched, in a reverent lul as the girl silently allowed herself to be escorted to the stage. She had long, black hair and darker skin than most would have in this area - almost the colour of the chocolate children would get a piece of on their birthdays. For some reason, she looked almost resigned to her fate as she walked up the stairs and faced the audience before her, like she knew this was going to happen whatever she did to try and prevent it. 

Even as the escort asked her the usual questions, her voice seemed sad, yet oddly accepting of what was to come. Karkat wondered just how many times her name had been in that bowl for her to feel that way. His own was in there more times than he cared to count, but he still held up hope that he'd be left alone for another year. 

“Alright, let’s have a round of applause for our brave female tribute, Aradia!” The escort said, way too enthusiastically for anyone's liking. Yet another smatter of applause could be heard, but it was significantly less polite than it had been at the start. People didn't like it when you took their children. “Now, to move on to the gentlemen!”

A surge of adrenaline took hold of him as the man moved over to the bowl on the male side, and waggled his eyebrows jovially before dipping his hand inside. He didn't know what he would do if he was chosen, had never planned that far ahead. Time seemed to slow down, and speed up all at once as his eyes intently watched the escort’s hand once again. This time, he was absolutely certain that the dickhead was purposely prolonging it, purposely delaying the moment where he would decide someone’s fate on the whim of what piece of paper he chose. But someone had to be picked at some point, and soon enough the hand withdrew once again.

A name was called, and it wasn't his. However, he was only allowed a moment of respite before he realised exactly who’s name it was. There was a small commotion coming from the area of 12 year olds as the peacekeepers had to go in, and start to escort a terrified-looking boy from its midst. A terrified-looking boy that not thirty minutes earlier, Karkat had tried to comfort at the front of the registration queues. A terrified-looking boy that so accurately echoed himself at that age, and for a moment, all he could do was picture himself in that boy’s place. He had told him it was ok, had told him he could go home. But the truth couldn't be further from it.

A woman was screaming from the other side of the courtyard, begging for them to do it again, to let her child go and take someone else. Her voice cut the crowd in two, and he could see her scrambling through it and towards the barrier, her arms outstretched as her son was hauled past her without so much as a glance from the peacekeepers taking him away.

Before he even knew it, he was on his feet, and someone had called out to volunteer in the boy’s place. It took him all of five seconds to realise that it had been his own voice. His throat felt impossibly dry as practically every head in the vicinity turned towards him. For the life of him, he could not comprehend why he'd done it. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to shut up, and sit back down. But the escort was speaking, and the mother was weeping as the peacekeepers let the boy go, only to turn towards him instead. There was nothing he could do, his fate was sealed and he'd been the idiot to do it. 

Karkat made every effort he could not to look as terrified as he felt, as he waded through the whispering sea of his peers. The escorting peacekeepers didn't bother to go inside to get him, instead waiting past the barrier as he made his way over. A courtesy that he hadn't imagined he'd ever receive in the countless times he'd pictured getting called up. This was nothing like his nightmares, and yet it was somehow objectively worse. 

The only thing that grounded him right now was focusing in on putting one foot in front of the other. Holding on to it as a lifeline, rather than as the only action leading him closer to his doom, one step at a time. He didn't even remember breaking free of his area, and allowing the peacekeepers to surround him. Just one foot after the other. 

His sister’s shocked gaze caught his eye as he passed by her enclosure. It looked like she wanted to say something, or possibly to scream, but nothing passed her parted lips. Karkat knew how she felt, maybe all too well. It seemed like he was watching himself walk solemnly up to the stage. At least he held his head high. Strangely enough, he felt kind of numb. The range of emotion he always thought he might react with was just replaced with an eerie calm.

“Well, that was certainly a shocking turn of events!” The escort said, his amplified voice shattering the silence that had seemed to engulf the whole district. “I believe that’s the first volunteer from this district for over 50 years! Congratulations, lad! What’s your name?”

Somehow, he didn't feel like this was something to be celebrated. But as the mic was thrust towards his face, he tried his best at a grin (that was definitely more of a grimace), and answered.

“Karkat.” He said, before realising he should probably give his surname too. “Karkat Vantas.”

“What a lovely name for such a brave fellow! Let’s hear it for our male tribute!!” The escort exclaimed, throwing his free hand out in a flair that Karkat couldn't help but find distasteful.

The courtyard was silent for the best part of a minute, before someone started to slowly clap. As he looked down for the source of it, he could see it was his father. One by one, the people around him started to join in, and for the first time in what could've been the entire history of District 12, the crowd genuinely clapped in applause for one of their tributes. There was no cheering, the mood was too sombre for acting excited; but the crowd was unanimous in showing their support for such an act. He just wished he hadn't been the one to do it.

“I think,” The escort - who Karkat was now going to _have_ to learn the name of - said after waiting for the audience to settle. Another courtesy that he'd never pictured being given, “that we can all agree that this year’s games are certainly getting off to an interesting start.”

And as he looked over - first at Aradia, who shot him a respectful glance; then across to his family, who seemed to be in a very mixed state of emotions - he had to agree. The games this year, were certainly going to be something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another eventful reaping takes place!!! 
> 
> I was debating on whether to have his sister get chosen, and that was what would cause him to volunteer alongside her, but I thought that might've been way too close to the original story for my liking. Either way, I'm 100% all for Karkat getting too caught up in his emotions and throwing himself into something he didn't plan ahead for.
> 
> Posting schedule for this is pretty much just going to be when I can, rather than anything concrete. I tend to write my fics in short bursts between my job and the like (which admittedly doesn't give me as much time as I'd like >:[ ). I'll try and at least keep the updates as close together as I can!
> 
> If you like what I do, then why not take a trip to my ko-fi page? ==> https://ko-fi.com/kingspirals
> 
> If you can't donate, then leaving a Kudos or a comment really helps me too!!


	4. The Visitation Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both of the new tributes say their final goodbyes.

Despite the centuries of use, the polished mahogany of the room inside the town hall looked like it was almost brand new. Terezi supposed this was probably because of its lack of use. She couldn't see another reason for this room existing, other than to temporarily house tributes just after the reaping. A heavy sigh heaved past her lips as her fingertips trailed over the top of an ornate wooden chair, and she wondered if anyone had ever bothered to sit in it. Just as a matter of principle, she moved around and sat in it herself. Though at the moment her butt touched the push, red seat, she heard the door click open behind her, and whirled around to see who it was.

“You sure about this, TZ?” Her sister asked, offering up a worried smile as she made her way across the room to sit down beside her. “I mean, ‘Glare made such a wicked mad deal of it all. You certainly got some attention.”

“Yeah.” Terezi said, another sigh forcing itself out as she spoke. The truth was, that her mother’s speech had made her both more viable to sponsors, and also an instant target. Things were definitely going to be harder than they had initially seemed. “Can’t back out now though, even if I wanted to.”

A heavy silence filled the space between them as the two sisters looked at each other with unease. Each knew what their mother expected, even if only one of them had been willing enough to go along with it. Latula was the first to break through it, as she ran her hand through her bright orange hair.

“Listen sis, I know you’re mega capable of handling yourself, but be careful ok? I don't want you getting killed because our loving parent wanted to fulfil her dumb legacy or some shit.” She said, putting her hand on Terezi’s shoulder in some kind of comfort. None of the Pyrope women were particularly great at expressing their real feelings, but she could tell Latula was trying as hard as she could. All she could do was nod in return, and pull her sister into a tight hug.

“I’ll come back, don’t worry yourself, you nerd.”

 

\--

 

Despite obvious attempts at keeping it maintained; the dark, ornate wood of the room inside the town hall looked as old as it really was. Well, he assumed it was ornate at least. With the scratches and dust all over the place, it was hard to tell what the original design was meant to be. 

Karkat sighed, and idly ran his fingertips across the back of a battered old chair. He could tell that the seat had once been a plush, red velvet, but without any repairs in what looked like half a century, it was now a faded and tattered shadow of its former self. For a moment, he debated sitting down on it - just out of curiosity rather than anything else - but as he tried to make up his mind, he heard footsteps coming up to the door behind him, and abandoned the thought in favour of turning round to see who would come in.

“You’re a real goddamn idiot, do you know that?!” Nepeta scolded him the moment the door opened. “This was your last year!! You could’ve let that boy take the fall and lived the rest of your life in peace!” Then she paused, and continued on in a slightly softer tone. “And so could the rest of your family.”

The door clicked shut behind her as she finished speaking, and Karkat found it hard not to look as hurt as he knew his little sister was. Instead, he opted for simply biting down on his lip.

“For me, sure. But you’ve still got two more years to go yet.” He offered, though he knew it was fuck all in the way of condolences.

“That’s not the point! I wouldn’t go out of my way to put myself in that death trap!!”

Karkat opened his mouth to say something in rebuttal, but found himself without anything to really defend himself with. Instead, he heaved out a sigh, and ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to formulate a response.

“You- You’re right, Nepeta. I’m a fucking, stupid idiot; but everyone already knew that before the fact.” He finally said after a short pause. Though despite his defeated tone of voice, he made sure to give his little sister a crooked grin to try and bring some humour into the sombre atmosphere. “I don’t really know what came over me. I just got so caught up in the moment, and I just imagined myself in the same position-”

“He did look a lot like you at that age.” Nepeta sighed, interrupting his rambling (probably for the better). “And I’m sure that his family is incredibly grateful.”

She shook her head, as if to try and clear out her brain as she spoke; and her short, bleached blonde hair bounced along with it. Karkat couldn’t help noticing that while she looked rightfully worried, his sister also seemed to have a glint of something else in her eye that he couldn’t quite place.

“Which is why, I want you to promise me that you’ll win!” She suddenly said, the strange spark in her eyes catching light. Nepeta looked at him with a burning determination, and clasped one of his hands between both of her own. “Not just for me, or for our family, not even for the district! But for that boy, and his family too. You owe it to them, to prove that you didn’t throw away your life so their kid could be picked another year instead!!”

Her sudden change in demeanour took him by surprise, and for the second time in the span of two minutes, he was rendered utterly speechless. A rare feat for anyone, let alone someone as close to him as Nepeta. The girl’s hands clenched around his palm as she waited for his response in earnest, and all he could do was chew on the inside of his cheek for a second or two as he thought about the weight such a promise would bring. There was no doubt there'd be plenty of other kids, in the same room as he was, making a very similar promise to what he was encouraged to do now. The fact that only one of them would be able to fulfil it… it made him incredibly nervous.

“Do you really think I could kill another person?” He eventually asked, though he wasn't quite sure if he was talking to himself, or his sister.

“You don't have to. You just have to survive.”

 

\--

 

After a sombre hug, Latula left her alone in the room once more. Terezi looked down at her lap as she weighted her declaration in her mind. She was going to win, but was she really? Twenty-three other people were going into that arena along with her, and anything could happen after that. In reality, she had a better shot at surviving until the end than most of the other tributes - at least when it came to combat. The thought suddenly dawned on her that she had almost no knowledge of how to survive in extreme environments. 

Sure, she knew how to light a fire, or shoot down a bird with an arrow; but the training she’d been put through had prioritised being handy with a weapon over telling you what plants were poisonous, or how to find water in a desolate area. Suddenly, she felt incredibly nervous about this whole ordeal.

Thankfully, she wasn’t left to worry about her situation for much longer. Just as her hands started to clench against the skirt of her dress (one her mother had forced her to put on), the door opened up once again, and another visitor strode into the room.

“Terezi.” Her mother only had to utter a simple, curt greeting, and the younger Pyrope was straight out of the chair. With her back straight, and her shoulders back, Terezi faced her mother with the same determined pride she had done to the people of her district not twenty minutes ago. “You did well out there. I’m proud of you.”

Proud of her. The words that she'd been seeking to own since she could walk, now flooded her ears, and filled the small girl with a peculiar bravery in the face of her doom. It might’ve been just the heat of the moment, but as Regina towered over her, Terezi could’ve sworn her mother’s stern mask cracked into the hint of a smile. A voice in the back of her mind pointed out the lengths she’d had to go to just to earn four measly words, but she ignored it. Nothing could ruin this moment.

“I won’t let you down.”

“Let’s hope you don’t.” Regina replied; the warning just a small reminder of what hurdles she still had to overcome to be deemed worthy. After a moment of her usual scrutiny, the woman heaved out a small sigh and reached into a pocket on her uniform. “Terezi, I want you to have this.”

Her outstretched hand unfurled before Terezi’s eyes, revealing a glittering silver broach in the shape of a dragon. One tiny ruby made up its visible eye, and small flecks of gold embossed the sharp-looking claws. Though, from years of seeing her mother bring the broach out for special occasions, she knew the edges of it were anything but.

“Is- Is this…?” She asked tentatively, as her gaze slowly rose up to meet her mother’s.

“Yes, but I want you to have it now.” Regina replied with an odd softness in her tone. Taking her daughter’s hand, she pressed the broach into her pale palm. “The rules allow for each tribute to bring a memento of their district. I want you to wear the one I brought along in my year of the games.”

Suddenly it was hard for Terezi not to start crying as her fingers closed around the cold metal. It was rare for her mother to express much sentimentality about anything, but she knew that this was special. The broach had been passed down from generation to generation through her family, always to the strongest child. Regina had gained the privilege right in this very room, and now it was time to take it on herself. Truly her family’s legacy.

“Thank you.”

 

\--

 

Not a word was said, as Simeon lowered a pendant into Karkat’s outstretched palm. The air around the father and son was solemn, and reverent - with the only sound being the small clink of the chain settling against dark skin. The younger Vantas barely dared to breathe, it felt almost sacrilegious to break the silence that’d shrouded the room. That was, until his father broke it himself.

“It’s not much, but I want to at least give you this.” Simeon said, a soft sigh leaving him as he spoke. He knew that look in the older man’s eyes, it was the same one he gave him whenever he’d been caught brawling by the peacekeepers over a situation he’d thrown himself into with only the best intent. “I can’t say that I agree with what you’ve done, Karkat; but I do understand it. You’re a good soul, and hopefully the Empire will see that too.”

The silver cancer sign almost glowed in the room’s lighting, and as Karkat looked down at his palm, he felt just a little more reassured about his fate. Only a little though, the vast majority of his mind was mentally shitting itself.

“You don’t really believe I can survive this, do you?” He asked. The hard truth was that he was likely to die within five minutes, but this didn’t help a slight, morbid smile from playing at the corner of his lips.

“All I can do, is pray that you come back to us safely.”

“Yeah, that seems about right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOO THIS TOOK A WHILE TO UPLOAD, HUH?  
> I lost a lot of motivation recently, but I managed to chip away at it bit by bit. Hope you liked it!!
> 
> Posting schedule for this is pretty much just going to be when I can, rather than anything concrete. I tend to write my fics in short bursts between my job and the like (which admittedly doesn't give me as much time as I'd like >:[ ). I'll try and at least keep the updates as close together as I can!
> 
> If you like what I do, then why not take a trip to my ko-fi page? ==> https://ko-fi.com/kingspirals
> 
> If you can't donate, then leaving a Kudos or a comment really helps me too!!


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